Déjà vu
by Supersilver46
Summary: Déjà vu:the illusion of remembering scenes and events when experienced for the first time. Except, Hermione isn't sure that her memories are actually illusions, a part of her is sure that she's seen this all play out before...
1. Chapter 1

As far back as Hermione could remember, she'd always had a voice in her head that she could hear. The voice could be very mature at times, though that didn't stop the voice from being rather immature at times. When she was younger, she had told her parents about the voice, which hadn't worried them at first. However, when she'd started to perform poorly in school, the result of her trying to learn 'magic' from what her parents assumed was her imaginary friend, they had become worried.. She'd ended up spending a few days in the hospital while doctors tried to figure out what was wrong with her. Eventually, the doctors told her and her parents that she had something called 'schizophrenia', and they'd explained to her what it was. It was an illness that made people see and hear things that weren't there. Most people who had the illness were older than Hermione, though there were some outliers like her who contracted the illness at a younger age. The doctors gave her medicine that she was supposed to take in order to stop the illness from taking over her life.

Years went by, and as she continued to take her medicine she could no longer hear the voice and while her parents were relieved, for some reason she felt a bit empty. Then once she had turned twelve, she had learned that she was a witch. Hermione expected that Professor McGonagall had expected to see more of a reaction from her, but Hermione couldn't work up the excitement. A few days later, she found herself standing outside one of the compartments in the Hogwarts express.

There was a sense of deja vu she couldn't shake as she slid open the door and walked into the train compartment. Two boys were sitting together, one of the boys had bright red hair and was holding out a wand, while the other boy had dark hair and a scar on his forehead. The two of them seemed familiar to her, but she knew that she had never met either of them before now. So why was she feeling so...nostalgic?

" _It's no wonder no one can stand her," The red haired boy said, "She's a nightmare,honestly…"_

"Uh, are you okay?" The red haired boy asked, "You've been staring at us for a while…"

Hermione shook her head, "I'm fine Ron," she said, "I just need to-"

"Hey, how'd you know my name?" Ron asked, "Have we met before?"

"I…"

For some reason she felt sick, she quickly left for the bathroom, and spent the rest of the ride trying not to vomit.

…

Hermione found that she couldn't eat anything as she sat at the Gryffindor table. In addition to feeling nauseous, her head had started to hurt. She rubbed her temples, and looked over at the table Professor Dumbledore was sitting at. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore and the groundskeeper was drinking from his gourd. The professor wearing the turban caught her attention, there was something about him that made the hair on the back of her neck stand. She had an urge to rush over to the table and yank the turban off the professor's head so that everyone could see that he was really-

"Ouch!" She heard Harry cry out. She looked away from the professor to see that Harry had clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" Ron's brother, Percy, asked Harry.

"N-nothing."

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" she heard Harry ask Percy.

"Oh,you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous," Percy said,"That's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions…"

" _You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape said, "...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…"_

Hermione winced as her headache began to worsen…

"...But he doesn't want to— everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the dark arts..."

Percy's voice cut through

"That makes sense, considering that he's a death eater." Hermione found herself saying, which caught Harry and Percy's attention.

"What's a death eater?" Harry asked.

"They were followers of You-Know-Who, and they specialized in the dark arts," Percy explained, "Most of them are locked up in Azkaban, though some managed to get away with their crimes."

"And Snape's a death eater?" Harry asked.

"I wouldn't call him a death eater just because he knows dark magic Harry," Percy said, "If he was, then Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him."

Was that right though? Hermione wondered, what Percy had just said was logical, but…

 _Snape's evil, he's working with the death eaters…_

 _He killed Dumbledore…_

 _He's the reason why everyone's dead…_

 _I'll kill him._

"Are you alright?"

Hermione blinked as Percy looked at her in concern.

"I'm fine." Hermione said as she relaxed her grip on the knife she was holding, and tried to think of something other than murdering her teacher...


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione found that she was going through the motions once class had started. She somehow knew the best routes to take to get to her classes on time, she knew everything the Professors were going to say before they said it, and she felt...strange. Today, she would be going to have her first Potions class with... _him._

The way that he just...glided into the room set her on edge, and the patronizing speech he had given didn't make her feel any better. 

"Potter!" Professor Snape shouted, startling the boy who hadn't been paying attention, "Tell me what will I get if I add Powdered Root of Asphodel to an infusion of Wormwood?"

"They make sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." Hermione answered before Harry could say anything. Snape frowned at her,

"Granger, I did not know that your name was Potter," Snape said. The Slytherins chuckled at this, and Snape turned back to Harry, "Where would you look if I tell you to find me a Bezoar?"

"A Bezoar is a stone, taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from the most poisons."

"Are you hard of hearing girl?" Snape frowned, "This is your last warning."

"What do you think Lilly would say if she saw you picking on her son?" Hermione found herself saying, "I doubt that she'd be pleased with how you're taking your anger out on him."

Suddenly the temperature in the room seemed to drop, and the class went silent. Snape's face seemed to change from annoyance to horror to rage.

"Where did you hear that name?" Snape asked, his voice was low, and his gaze burned into Hermione's. She felt something prickle against her mind, she mentally pushed it back with little effort. Snape frowned, and soon that prickle turned into a sharp drill causing her to feel piercing pain. She forced the feeling back and soon she felt herself falling...

 _She landed heavily on the ground, and she suddenly found herself in a deserted playground. A single huge chimney dominated the distant skyline. Two girls were swinging backward and forward, and a skinny boy was watching them from behind a clump of bushes. His black hair was overlong, and his clothes were so mismatched that it looked deliberate: too short jeans, a shabby, overlarge coat that might have belonged to a grown man, an odd smocklike shirt._

" _Lily, don't do it!" shrieked the elder of the two._

 _But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skyward with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly._

" _Mummy told you not to!"_

 _Petunia stopped her swing by dragging the heels of her sandals on the ground, making a crunching, grinding sound, then leapt up, hands on hips._

" _Mummy said you weren't allowed, Lily!"_

" _But I'm fine," said Lily, still giggling. "Tuney, look at this. Watch what I can do."_

 _Petunia glanced around. The playground was deserted apart from themselves and, though the girls did not know it, Snape. Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Snape lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster._

" _Stop it!" shrieked Petunia._

" _It's not hurting you," said Lily, but she closed her hand on the blossom and threw it back to the ground._

" _It's not right," said Petunia, but her eyes had followed the flower's flight to the ground and lingered upon it. "How do you do it?" she added, and there was definite longing in her voice._

" _It's obvious, isn't it?" Snape could no longer contain himself, but had jumped out from behind the bushes. Petunia shrieked and ran backward toward the swings, but Lily, though clearly startled, remained where she was. Snape seemed to regret his appearance. A dull flush of color mounted the sallow cheeks as he looked at Lily._

" _What's obvious?" asked Lily._

 _Snape had an air of nervous excitement. With a glance at the distant Petunia, now hovering beside the swings, he lowered his voice and said, "I know what you are."_

" _What do you mean?"_

" _You're . . . you're a witch," whispered Snape._

 _She looked affronted._

" _That's not a very nice thing to say to somebody!"_

 _She turned, nose in the air, and marched off toward her sister._

" _No!" said Snape as he rushed after the two._

 _The sisters considered him, united in disapproval, both holding on to one of the swing poles as though it was the safe place in tag._

" _You are," said Snape to Lily. "You are a witch. I've been watching you for a while. But there's nothing wrong with that. My mum's one, and I'm a wizard."_

 _Petunia's laugh was like cold water._

" _Wizard!" she shrieked, her courage returned now that she had recovered from the shock of his unexpected appearance. "I know who you are. You're that Snape boy! They live down Spinner's End by the river," she told Lily, and it was evident from her tone that she considered the address a poor recommendation. "Why have you been spying on us?"_

" _Haven't been spying," said Snape, hot and uncomfortable and dirty-haired in the bright sunlight. "Wouldn't spy on you, anyway," he added spitefully, "you're a Muggle."_

 _Though Petunia evidently did not understand the word, she could hardly mistake the tone._

" _Lily, come on, we're leaving!"_

Snape seemed like he wanted to say something, he held out his arm and then-

Hermione found herself being flung back in her seat, she ended up falling onto the ground and hit her head, causing her vision to swim. Professor Snape stood over her, breathing heavily.

"Detention with me for the rest of the year," Snape seethed, "And a hundred points from Gryffindor."


End file.
